


A Joe by Any Other Name is Just as Joe

by Pr_Anx



Category: Alien Series, Alien: Isolation (Video Game)
Genre: I’m so sorry, Joe dirty talk, Other, Written solely to make a discord server cringe, excessive use of incorrect robotic terms, this is 100 percent crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22777585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pr_Anx/pseuds/Pr_Anx
Summary: Joe and Joe are just your average Joes, but then Joe starts to notice Joe a little more than usual, leading to a wonderful, but short-lived moment of passion.
Relationships: Working Joe/Working Joe
Comments: 8
Kudos: 13





	A Joe by Any Other Name is Just as Joe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [suney](https://archiveofourown.org/users/suney/gifts), [OutreOtter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OutreOtter/gifts), [UnderTheFridge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnderTheFridge/gifts), [Annabel7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annabel7/gifts).



> Edited by UnderTheFridge, who was also one of the people who talked me into writing this.

Joe was sure his internal clocking system must be malfunctioning due to the fact he’d been unable to correctly assess the amount of time he’d been staring at Joe. 

There’s a clatter down the hall, one of the humans has dropped a wrench. Joe doesn’t see this, but his audio-sensory system knows what it is and precisely where it was dropped. 

He can also hear the whirring of Joe’s motors as he goes to assist the human in recovering the dropped tool. What a wonderful sound, filling his main computing hardware with a strange, buzzing feeling. 

Of course, Joe watches Joe walk over, uttering a “This requires my assistance” as he reaches the human. 

Joe watches Joe bend over for the wrench, feeling his tertiary exhaust valve...wiggle. It’s an odd feeling, but not unpleasant. 

The human walks on without a thank you towards Joe, and Joe retakes his place in front of the communications doors, perfectly within sight-line of Joe’s ocular range. 

“A synthetic’s work is never done,” Joe says after agonizing seconds sifting through his memory bank of authorized and pre-programmed lines. 

When no reply comes, Joe’s internal reactor processes at a 3% decrease. 

“No need to be shy.” He tries again.

“Are you playing a game with me?” Finally a response from Joe. He sounds more put-out than Joe had hoped, but Joe’s sensors had been wrong before. 

“Something amiss?” Joe asks, nanotech capacitors inside of his head unit working hard to find the right response.

“What do you need to do today?”

“I’ve got all day, you know.”

There’s silence for a moment as Joe and Joe stare into each other’s ocular sensors. Joe feels his internal reactor regaining its 3% decrease along with an extra 2% increase. 

“Follow me please.” Joe says, stepping away from the doors. 

“Existing tasks have a higher priority.”

“I have other concerns,” Joe says, still making his way down the hall. “Come along, please.”

Joe hesitates for only a second before trailing after Joe. He’s not sure what is coming (maybe Joe doesn’t like Joe’s advances and is taking him to a terminal to have a report logged), but he’s starting to notice unusual heat patterns under Joe’s synthetic flesh and maybe that’s a good sign?

Instead of a terminal or Seegson employee, Joe leads Joe into a storage room, making Joe’s internal systems buzz harder. 

Joe turns to Joe and softly places his lower facial sensor on Joe’s lower facial sensor as they’d seen the humans do on several occasions to mark intimacy or greeting. 

It takes Joe a moment of searching through his memory banks to come to the conclusion this is called a ‘kiss’, and it’s very exciting. 

The synthetic flesh of their lower sensors squeak as they rub them back and forth for a few moments before they part and stare passionately into each other’s ocular sensors. 

“I’ll get to the bottom of this.” Joe says, making Joe’s internal heat index rise to .06. 

“How may I help you?” Joe asks as they stand, surrounded by crates and defunct or obsolete equipment. 

“You are carrying some dangerous items,” Joe replies as his hand inches towards the zipper of Joe’s uniform. 

“We are experiencing a heightened Hazard Containment Level today,” Joe announces.

“With Seegson there’s someone behind you, helping you, every single step of the way.”

Joe watches as Joe moves the zipper down, exposing Joe’s synthetic flesh as he undresses Joe. When it’s his turn to undress Joe, he can’t help but do it quickly, eager to see the loose, grey skin under Joe’s uniform. 

“Protected area compromised,” Joe says when both of their tertiary exhaust valves are exposed. 

Joe scans his own memory for instructions on what to do next, files filled with audio, video, and static format images are accessed and processed as Joe computes their shared next move. 

Joe turns around, showing Joe the accessory port on his lower back. Joe’s automatic system scan shows higher than average processing power that could ultimately lead to a period of overheating. 

“Have you been misbehaving?” Joe says as he unplugs his manual auxiliary transfer cord from the casing in his abdomen. “Logging report to APOLLO.”

“Do not damage Seegson property,” Joe replies, still facing away toward the wall. 

“A potential hazard.” Joe agrees. 

Joe plugs his manual auxiliary transfer cord into Joe’s accessory port and monitors the fluctuations in processing as they transfer static between them, intermingled “Hmm?” filling their surroundings.

Suddenly, after only a few minutes of coupling, the connection fails and Joe’s manual auxiliary transfer cord is pulled back into its casing. 

"I'll assume that didn't combust all on its own,” Joe says. 

“This usually doesn’t happen.”

“That’s odd.” Joe, however, doesn’t seem to be experiencing high levels of internal stress, so Joe is sure Joe doesn’t mind the short duration of their transference coupling. 

Joe feels depleted and, after checking his energy levels, surmises it is time to redress and attend himself to a charging station. Joe seems to be of the same frequency and redresses. 

“If my services do not meet Seegson"s standards please log a complaint.”

“APOLLO is reporting a good service throughout Sevastopol.” Joe says, placing his lower facial sensor upon Joe’s lower facial sensor once more.

Once they’re both dressed and their cooling systems have once again reached regulation standard range, they exit the storage room and make their way towards the nearest charging docks, sending APOLLO a report stating their needs to be temporarily replaced while they charge. 

As Joe and Joe enter their charging docks, they share another moment of focused ocular assessments. 

“Your presence has been logged.” They say simultaneously. Joe enters the charging station, glad his internal clocking system had malfunctioned.


End file.
